


Nine Tenths

by astolat



Category: Twin Peaks
Genre: Consent Issues, F/M, First Time, One-Eyed Jack's, made them do it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 04:10:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1102235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astolat/pseuds/astolat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm not sorry," Audrey said again, behind him, gently implacable, planting hooks. "I'm not."</p>
<p>"I have to try to be," he said.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nine Tenths

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heidi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heidi/gifts).



The madame smiled at him, a sleek predatory curve. "This is how it's going to work, Agent Cooper," she said, and drew aside the bedcurtains. Audrey lay there pale and half-conscious, naked under the sheets, one long coltish arm flung up on the red pillows and her lips bitten, bruises under her eyes, needlemarks dotting her arm.

He took it in and catalogued it while Blackie spoke. An opiate, most likely heroin. Disorientation, hallucinations, lethargy. Audrey would have a hard time with motor coordination and was probably suffering from nausea. He didn't let himself feel about it just yet. Empathy divided men from beasts and so divided him from the people in this room, who'd done this to her, but it wasn't going to get Audrey out of here.

"She's a beautiful girl," Blackie said, softly, into his ear. "So I'm sure you won't mind."

He looked at her coldly. "And if I say no?"

"It's up to you, of course," she said. "But if you won't, I'll just have someone else do it. There are plenty of men down in the casino who won't ask questions." She walked around the other side of the bed and opened up a box, syringe and vials of clear liquid. "I'll even make sure she doesn't feel a thing."

More could tip Audrey over into overdose. But that was likely their endgame in any case. Sexually used, marked up, dead of overdose; another girl gone bad, an old story told again. His cooperation would only enhance that scenario. He'd be found with her, overdosed also, an agent crossing the line in every possible way. The Bureau would be embarrassed. Attention from law enforcement would be unenthusiastic and of short duration. The right answer was to refuse.

He sat down on the bed and took Audrey's arm in his hand, his fingers seeking out the pulse. It trembled and fluttered like a trapped bird. "Audrey," he said.

Her eyes lifted, opened just a little. "You came," she murmured.

"Yes," he said, and quelled the temptation to touch her cheek and brush her hair away from her face. He wouldn't influence her one way or another. "Audrey, I'm going to have to speak frankly. I know that you're having a difficult time concentrating right now, but I need you to try very hard."

She drew in a deep breath, her eyes shut, and then she nodded. "It's getting a little better."

"Good," he said. "Audrey, the people who are holding you prisoner want me to have sexual relations with you. Their intention is to — "

"They want to make you look bad," she said, almost calmly. "So they can kill both of us."

He paused, and smiled at her a little. Endlessly surprising, endlessly brave. "Yes," he said. "They of course intend to kill us both in any case."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"I am too," he said simply. "I hope you know that I will do everything in my power to ensure you aren't harmed."

Her hand slipped out of his grip and lifted to his face. Her thumb brushed against his lip. Her own perfume still lingered on her wrist, sweeter and more delicate than the cheap scent that hung about the bordello.

"I don't want you to do it for them," she said. "I don't want you to do it to keep them from hurting me."

He shut his eyes. If he refused, they would certainly make good on their threat. It would be easy enough to carry out and cost them nothing, no more humanity than they had already given away. Blackie was used to spending the innocence of other women. He suspected she would also be clever and vicious enough in her sadism to make him watch. Yet Audrey's consent was an absolute necessity. To frighten her or pressure her into giving it would make it hollow; to leave her unwarned for what would surely be a hideous experience —

"That's not what I meant," Audrey said, although he hadn't said anything. Her fingers touched his mouth again, drowsy wanderers. "I want you to do it for _me_. I want — in this place, I want — " She was shivering a little, and her face was drawn in a small frown. "I want to forget I'm here," she whispered. "Can we be back in your room? Can we — "

"Yes," he said quietly. He laid her arm back down on the bed and stood up to face Blackie. "Get out."

Blackie smiled victoriously. "Take your time," she threw over her shoulder as she sauntered out of the room. "We'll be watching." The lock clicked behind her.

He took his time undressing, methodically folding his clothing and stacking it in critical order: pants on the seat of a chair, underwear on top, boots open at the bottom with the laces threaded, ready to be pulled tight in a moment. His shirt and jacket would cover Audrey, and his socks would give her feet some protection. He left them draped over the arm. The chair went by the bed, in reach.

He brought Audrey a full glass of water from the sink, and one for himself. If they had a chance to escape, it would be important not to be dehydrated. Audrey watched him with heavy-lidded eyes over the rim of the glass, not shying away from the sight of his naked body. A pink flush was in her cheeks. He set the glasses aside on the end table, and then he drew back the coverlet and climbed in with her.

She was curled on her side. Her pupils were still blown, and her fingers stumbled over him, touching his shoulder and his chest lightly, as if she was exploring, half-blind. "Your heart is racing," she whispered. "I can feel it."

He said, "Audrey, may I ask if this is your first time having intercourse?"

Her lashes were dark against her cheek. "Yes," she said.

He cleared his throat. "The popular misconception that a young woman's first sexual encounter must be painful is rooted in the inexperience of most young men, and the failure to ensure sufficient lubrication. I'd like to reassure you that it is not necessary, and — " He stopped. She was trailing her fingers down the line of his chest, over his abdominal muscles.

"Please," she said, leaning towards him.

He drew a few measured breaths. "Yes," he said, and tipped her head up so he could kiss her. Her mouth was still cool from the water. He touched her thigh to give her a moment's advance notice, not long enough to tense up, and slipped his fingers between her thighs. She trembled all over when he touched her.

He was surprised by how badly he wanted to take her at once. The reaction was a visceral and, he supposed, a natural one. He was a healthy adult male, and she was, biologically speaking, a healthy and receptive adult woman. His body did not care about the degrading situation, nor recognized that he was about to violate the trust and innocence of a young woman who —

"Agent Cooper," Audrey said, reaching up to him. "Don't. Don't be here. Be with me."

She was right, of course. "Audrey," he said, "I'd be honored if you would call me Dale."

Her mouth curved, slow and sleepy. "Dale."

He made love to her three times without penetration, her breasts tender and pebbled-firm under his tongue, the taste and smell of her intoxicating, on his fingers, her thighs slick and quivering and spread wide by the third time, her soft gasping cries and her fingers stroking through his hair. She was wonderfully, unselfconsciously greedy, asking him openly for more, eager to experience every pleasure her body and his could give her.

The longer they took, the more likely the guards outside would grow bored and lax, and give him an opening when it was over. That made a good excuse, but the truth was, he wanted to linger. He had no right to this, the first sweetness of her. It was irresistible anyway, the dizzying sense of power when she came apart beneath him, her sultry eyes deer-wide and startled, her fingers clutching tight and then shivering open on him. He never wanted it to end, when it shouldn't have happened at all, and then she said, "Dale," low and breathed out, yearning, "I want."

He drew her into his arms and rolled them over, so she was above him. She leaned against him, braced against his shoulders. "Yes, Audrey. Slowly, and — " but she was already sliding onto him, carefully but without any fear, her lip caught between her teeth, and he was gone. He tried to recite the multiplication tables — twelve, twelve required concentration, twelve was impossible, twenty-four, thirty-eight —

She rocked against him. "Audrey," he said, his voice cracking.

"Oh," she said thoughtfully, her eyes closing, and did it again, moved over him, and he broke. The world narrowed in red velvet flashes as he rolled them over and slid back into her, went into the welcoming curve of her legs as she curled them over his hips. Her fingers with their soft curved nails drew narrow damp lines down his back, coaxing, and she was saying _now, there, yes, Dale,_ and there was nothing but her voice and her scent and her body around him, and he was lost.

He held himself over her afterwards, breathing hard. He wanted nothing more than to stay in the bed with her, to take her again, to try and stake a claim he had no right to be making. Instead he said, "Audrey," and gently eased himself back from her. She gave a small pleased sigh and looked up at him. Her eyes were very brilliant. He forced himself up and out of the bed. If they had been watching closely, the guards would be coming in, right away, and he was at the door with the heavy glass decanter in his hand just in time.

He took the first guard with a solid hit directly in the center of the forehead. The man fell, poleaxed, and Cooper lunged at the second one and caught his wrists before he could get out his gun. The decanter went rolling away. The other man did not have a particularly good sense of balance, and was overweight; Cooper was reasonably sure he would win, eventually, but eventually was not going to be good enough. Then the guard gave a low grunt: Audrey was there stabbing the heroin needle deep into his arm and squeezing in, and Cooper took the opportunity to slam his head back into the doorframe even while the rush hit.

Cooper got his pants and his boots on. Audrey was already pulling on his socks. He took the guns, checked for ammunition, and slid the spare into his pocket. "Stay close," he told her, and they were running through the hallways, with doors slamming urgently somewhere close behind them. Audrey was stumbling, half naked in only his shirt and jacket, but she had a hand on the wall, keeping herself up so his hands would be free.

She caught his arm as they ran towards the back exit, and pointed to one of the rooms they had just passed, empty with the door ajar — on the opposite side French doors stood open, with a breeze blowing curtains into the room. He lifted her over the railing before climbing over himself, and they were out and in the woods, the dark dark woods, and the lights of One-Eyed Jack's faded out one by one behind them.

#

Cooper rubbed his face. His feet were sore and blistered from walking approximately six miles over uneven terrain without socks, occasionally carrying Audrey when the ground had been too rough. He had gotten caught several times with tree branches in the dark and had long angry scratches on his back and chest. None were serious. He had treated them all adequately with the first aid kit in the border patrol car that had brought them back to Twin Peaks. He was sitting in the waiting room of the ICU.

He wanted very badly to go into the curtained alcove across the room, to sit down by Audrey's bedside and take her hand and tell her how extraordinary she had been, in every way. He wanted to say things to her that would bind her close and commit him: wonderful things, unforgiveable things.

"Tough night?" Harry said, sitting down next to him.

"Like you wouldn't believe," Cooper said. He looked Harry up and down. Harry had scratches of his own, and one nasty bruise showing on his cheekbone that was probably going to turn into a good old-fashioned shiner. "What happened?"

"Hawk and I thought maybe you might need a hand," Harry said. "We followed you up to One-Eyed Jack's, got there just in time to see the party heading out after you. We picked them off in the woods, but we couldn't find you ourselves."

"Much appreciated, regardless," Cooper said. He put his head down. "I should have called you in from the beginning."

"Hey," Harry said. "Don't second-guess it. You got the girl out."

"I saved her from them, Harry," Cooper said. "I didn't save her from me."

His sleep that night was fitful, and full of partial, half-formed dreams that escaped as soon as he woke. He suspected, from body temperature and other physiological reactions, that he was dreaming about Audrey.

He stopped back at the hospital in the morning to inquire after Audrey's health. "She's doing fine," the nurse said. "She's being discharged in just a little while, you can go in and talk to her."

"No, thank you, I won't disturb her," he said, and turned at the tap on his shoulder; Benjamin Horne was standing behind him.

"A word with you, Agent Cooper," Horne said, crooking a finger, and Cooper went with him down the hall to a nearly empty waiting room. One man was sitting in the corner, but he had enormous headphones on and was talking out loud, saying short phrases in Icelandic.

"Mr. Horne," Cooper said, without waiting, "I hope you will understand when I say that it is not my place but Audrey's to tell you — "

"Apparently others have less delicate sensibilities," Horne said. "I received an interesting videotape at the hotel this morning. I leave the contents to your imagination, although the contents themselves left nothing to mine."

He made a thin, mirthless smirk. Cooper was conscious of a nearly overpowering desire to knock him down. Unfortunately, while the man might have earned that sentiment for many wide and varied reasons, this one was not directly his fault. "I regret that you had to see any of that."

_"Hver vegur til the fjörður?"_ the man in the headphones said.

"I sent you to _ransom_ my daughter," Horne said. "Perhaps you got a little confused by the setting — "

"Mr. Horne, is there a point to this?"

Horne paused. "I would imagine the Bureau's reaction to this little piece of improvisational theater might be less than positive."

"I was on my way to inform my superiors of last night's events," Cooper said. "You may be sure Audrey's name will not enter into my report, if that is your concern." He didn't try to hide the cold disdain in his tone. Horne's concern was to find whatever ounce of personal advantage he could squeeze out, even from this.

_"Vilja þú koma aftur til minn hótel herbergi fyrir sumir Brennivín?"_ the man in the headphones said.

Horne shifted gears. "Forgive me if I'm not deeply comforted when there's a police report and a hospital report showing that you checked Audrey in last night. It's not exactly an act of great deductive reasoning to connect the dots."

"At this moment, the people who know are the very ones who wish you, Audrey, and myself personal harm, and who we can be sure are not above the petty and venial act of attempted extortion," Cooper said. Horne's eyes narrowed. "I trust you can understand why under the circumstances, it is not possible for me to withhold this information from the Bureau."

"And if Audrey ends up splattered over a newspaper somewhere, I suppose that's just collateral damage," Horne said.

He was aiming to hit, and succeeded. The thought of it — photographs of Audrey, perhaps, stills taken from whatever video they'd made, insinuations and sly remarks — the suggestion alone should have curdled Horne's own stomach to make.

_"Geta þú stjórna mig til the sánabað?"_ the man in the headphones said.

"Agent Cooper," the nurse said, from the doorway, uncertainly. Cooper looked at her. He became aware that his hands had drawn into fists. "Audrey was asking for you, if you hadn't already left. She'll be ready to go as soon as the doctor sees her, Mr. Horne," she added.

"Excuse me," Cooper said to Horne, and went down the hallway. He stood in front of the alcove and took a deep breath before he lifted aside the curtain and stepped inside.

Audrey looked up, beautiful even in the blue hospital gown that wanted to slide off her shoulders. Her neck was white and graceful and there was healthy color in her cheeks. "I hope you're feeling better," Cooper said.

"Much," she said, with a flicker of a smile, there and gone. Her eyes stayed on him, and under their pressure, he came in and sat down in the chair next to the bed, parallel to her. "Has my father been at you yet?"

"Your father is naturally concerned — "

"That my value as an asset has decreased," Audrey said, "which means somebody owes him something."

Unfortunately, Cooper was reasonably sure she was right. He dropped his eyes to his hands, clasped in his lap. He didn't trust himself to look at her. The best of intentions could lead a man astray. Horne's behavior was repellent, and Cooper didn't want Audrey spending another minute in his power in any way, preferably not even in his vicinity. That was as much a temptation as any of the others tangled in the complicated space she was steadily carving out inside him.

"Dale," she said, and there was an entirely involuntary satisfaction at hearing his name in her mouth that told him just how deep in the woods he still was. "I'm not sorry, and you don't owe anyone anything. Certainly not my father."

"I feel no obligation to your father," Cooper said. "But last night isn't what you should have — "

She was smiling, faintly. "Do you really think I would've been happier losing my virginity the night after the prom, with someone I picked because he was the lesser of thirty evils?"

He took a deep breath. Audrey wanted and needed to rationalize what had happened to her. That made sense. It needed to have meaning, and importance, and he shouldn't try to take that away. But neither could he let her convince him that what had happened was acceptable, or even positive —

"You said I had a romantic nature," she said, and he looked up involuntarily, foolishly; her eyes were on him, intent and unflinching. "And maybe I do, but ten years from now, when someone asks me, I'll be able to say my first time was with a brilliant and courageous FBI agent who rescued me from drug smugglers. And he was wonderful, and I wanted him like crazy, and he made me feel like a goddess — "

"Adventures don't always have happy endings, Audrey," he said, too harshly. He looked away, struggling for some degree of composure.

"Boring doesn't always have happy endings either. Somebody gets cancer or gets hit by a truck or gets married to someone they can't stand, and stays that way because they're scared of trying for something they really want." She leaned towards him, confidential, whispering. "I'm _not_ scared."

He stood abruptly, putting more distance between them, because the only alternative was to take her in his arms and kiss the breath out of her.

"And I'm not sorry," Audrey said again, behind him, gently implacable, planting hooks. "I'm not."

"I have to try to be," he said, after a moment: the closest he could get, in that moment, to finding a narrow path where his obligations and the truth could meet.

She lowered her eyes and smiled, catlike. He tried not to see it.

# End

 


End file.
